Inmate N: 0801
by Pewdiepie's Slave
Summary: She was a clown with a painted face, and her act was jumping through hoops for a man who would never love her. She was a harlot, with no one who desired her. She was an insane psychiatrist, who ran her career into the ground for an abusive deadbeat called a man. She broke the only rule she created to protect her when she Gotham. She fell in love. It all started with an application
1. Chapter 1

She was nothing but a fool. That's how the world saw her. She was a clown with a painted face, and her act was jumping through hoops for a man who would never love her. She was a harlot, with no one who desired her.

She was an insane psychiatrist, who ran her career into the ground for an abusive deadbeat called a man. She broke the only rule she created to protect her when she moved to Gotham. She fell in love. And she fell in love with one of her patients.

She fell in love with his story, his background, his personality. Everything about him. Soon she found herself spilling her personal information to him, and without knowing, making him a part of her life.

It all started with an application form, And at the top of that form, a name was carved in red pen.

Harleen F. Quinzel

Harleen graduated top of her class at the University of Gotham. The University of Gotham obviously wasn't her top pick school, nor was it even on her list of schools. It was the only school she could afford because it was free. A full scholarship in gymnastics.

Other schools gave small sum of money which they slapped on a check and called them scholarships. Some wouldn't even cover the food bill for the week. And living with her mother, lazy-ass brother, two dogs and an occasional father figure (when ever he decided to pick himself off the floor and play nice long enough to get out of jail) wasn't cheap.

She had her heart set on Harvard or another private school to study abroad but money kept adding up and there was just one problem, she was broke. So when the full scholarship came in the mail, the decision was made. She'd go to the University of Gotham no question about it.

She was on the gymnastics team in high school, reach and flexibility were her assets. She usually scored higher than most of her teammates, competing for first place. She did everything with elegance and grace, almost as if she was seducing the Crowd with her performance.

She spent half her time split between the gym and her studies. She did have a few friends, those who took the same AP classes as she did, but that was it. The girls on the gymnastics team were stuck up brats who believed the world revolved around them and their makeup caked faces. So of course they wouldn't be caught dead with her.

Harleen was in College, soon enough. Trading her glasses for contacts, relieving her blonde hair from the high ponytail from which it she kept it for eighteen years, and began to dabble in the art of makeup. To simplify thing, Harleen was a completely new person, and as her father liked to put it, a bit of a heart breaker.

And a heart breaker she was. Mostly because she let dates go to waste, with a nose in a book she never had time to window shop. Every Valentine's Day she was asked out, and every mixer and every dance she was asked out to. Though she's politely declined, she'd prefer to show up alone. Those were the few times that she did show up at all. She was deeply infatuated with the study of Psychology and Psychiatry, for that was her double major.

She studied long and hard, memorizing every part of the brain, every hormonal response and the reactions that occurred. It came to the point of where she even memorized different micro-expressions to tell if someone was lying. Which made it easier to then analyze a person.

Something just excited her at the thought of helping a person, figuring out what's wrong with them and finding a way to cure it. But that was only the first part. She was enthralled with the idea of assessing someone's brain when they're on the brink of insanity, what cause them to go insane? Would the brain release other hormones? What would it take to push someone over the edge? And was it possible to bring them back? She was determined to find out.

She spent hours studying for her finals, sweating through them, but every cross out, every bubbled letter was one step closer to her degree. That's all that mattered to her. She was Inching her way to the top and no one was gonna stand in her way.

***

It was finally that time of the year. Graduation. Four years of college for this moment, and Harleen couldn't have been happier. Valedictorian of her graduating class. Slightly embarrassed by her brother's attire: a Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and flip flops. She would have beat him if she knew he was gonna wear that to the most special day of her life.

Her mother wore an elegant gown, silver and looked like silk. It clung to her curves as she moved, faltered her figure, but she was highly over dressed with large earring dangling from her ears. A simple spring dress was fine but she dressed to impress. Though Harleen had no idea who she was impressing since most of the men at the event were younger than she was or already married. But that never stopped her mom from trying to take the spotlight.

Harleen stood proud giving her speech to the crowd.  
"Today, I stand before you with the graduating class of '81, and I'm proud to say we did it! Through thick and thin, we leaned on each other, we pushed each other to get to this point. But after today we leave the college life behind and get thrown into the real world. Just remember these three things: 1. Remember to be yourself, the world will try to change you, but if you remain who you are you will achieve more than you'd ever believe.  
2\. No matter where you are, you will always have friend even in the toughest of times.  
And 3. Don't forget your roots. You will always have a home here at Gotham University.  
"With that I say, congratulations graduating class of '81, We did it!"

The graduation caps flew into the air, raining down on the new graduates.

Harleen smiled and giggled as she held the roll of paper in her hands and flew down the stairs into her friend's arms. They giggled and chattered, hugging and squealing. They gossiped about which graduation party they'd be attending first and in which order. Before Harleen could reply she hear her mother calling her.

"Oh Harleeeeennn!" Her mother exaggerated, sounding like a yawn. "Who would've thought that myyyyyy daughter would've been vaaaledictorian. Oh what a shame her faaaather couldn't be here to see her now!"

"Thanks mom..." She muttered, waving goodbye to her friends and began walking to the car. She wanted to get out of there before her mom could embarrass her or introduce her to her 'New' stepdad Who She picked up along the way.

There was a surfboard attached to the top of the car and she instantly knew where her brother was gonna go after he gets home. And so off he went after he dropped his mother off at a restaurant and Harleen at the house.

She signed and congratulated herself, "Good job... You finally made it."

Sitting down at the table she began to dig in. No, there wasn't food, or even a cake. Instead on the table sat a stack of job applications.

"Oh lucky me."


	2. Chapter 2

Harleen sighed as the clock on the wall struck twelve. If she knew that her mother would've still been out Harleen would've left, visiting the few graduation parties that she had been invited to. Instead she sat at the small table filling out the applications that her mother had left her. Two neat stacks had sat on the stable. They were the only things that were neat in this wreck of an RV that they lived in.

Harleen's mother was always on the move, one town to another, if one man didn't suit her needs she didn't bother staying in that town. She'd deem that all the men in that town were slobs and couldn't support her so she'd leave. But in Harleen's opinions her mother wasn't worth more than a three dollar hooker you'd pick up on a street corner. She'd never tell her that no matter how much she annoys her.

The RV was cramped, one bedroom which was her mother's 'love nest', which Harleen avoids at all means, for she doesn't want to know what her mother likes to do with her boy toys. Her brother slept on the couch, she could tell from the smell of cologne on the blankets and such. Harleen was 80% sure the car her brother was using was stolen, probably switched the license plates.

Harleen set the pen down and sighed, her family was broken, she knew that from a young age. She knew when her father left during her birth, she knew when the police barged in on her fourth birthday and arrested her father, she knew now when her father missed her graduation. She was angry at him for being a failure, she was upset with her mother for always moving, and she was disappointed in her brother for doing anything illegal.

She swiped at the papers, feeling the anger build up in her. She worked her hardest to make a name for herself but no matter what she was labeled as a Quinzel. A thief, a jailbird, a slut, a broke beggar. She stared as tears burned her eyes, there were few applications in her field that her mother had acquired. Some of them were pet sitting jobs, or even fast food jobs.

 _What does she take me for? A joke!?_ Harley huffed. _I didn't go through four years of college, endless hours of studying to work some half ass job where they don't respect me._

Her hands slammed into the table, trying to control her anger. The clock ticked behind her, setting her on edge. Every tick seeming to want to push her already friend nerves over the edge, if that was even possible. It seemed to her that her mother was mocking her intelligence and determination.

 _Tick._

 _Tick._

 _Tick._

Harleen's head moved with the ticking, moved back and forth. Inhale. Exhale. Harleen tried to calm herself. The stress was just getting to her that's all. She'd need sleep, maybe it was time to head back to her dorm, to sleep sleep off her stress.

The door slammed open and her mother stumbled in. Lip locked with a man who seemed to be old enough to be her grandfather.

"Harleeeeen, you're still here?" Her mother slurred, barely acknowledging the sack of living flesh trying to undo her dress.

"Pesky chiiiiiiilllld, always has been. Allllllready graduated college annnnnnd still trying to feed off heeeeerrrrr gracious mother."

Harley growled to herself, " let me guess, old and dying so you want to smooch off him while you can?"

"Just finish alllll the papers annnndddd get out." She shoo'd her away like a fly and returned to her man toy of the night. Harleen was surprised the man didn't need a cane, but he was keeping himself steady by latching onto her mother's breasts.

She kicked the door open and stomped out. Disgusted and angered she decided it would be better to walk back to campus, instead of hauling a taxi.

The streets of Gotham were not what you'd call safe, especially not for a girl to be walking alone in the dark. But, if anyone had common science they wouldn't try and bother her tonight. Harleen slumped as she walked, kicking an Aluminum can that got in her way.

She heard police sirens near by, which wasn't unusually for any city, but she was surprised that by now they still had a police force. At first Harleen had been scared to leave campus, a death almost every day, an explosion every now and then, prison breaks, everything you wouldn't want in a town. But this is where she landed and wasn't gonna let a little economic crisis and failing prison security stand in her way.

Three police cars zoomed past her, spraying her with watered down slime. "Jerks!" She yelled, and continued walking, trying to shake off the dirt from her nice red and black dress. It was red with black ruffles but not it looked like a marrone color with black splotches.

A shadow appeared over her as she walked, looking up she stopped in astonishment. A man leaped from building to building above her. His came flapped in the wind as he moved quickly and quietly. The words rolled off her tongue.

"Batman…"

It took a few minutes to register in her mind what had happened but before she could her legs moved for her. She barreled down the closest ally, staring up above her.

 _Batman._

She never seen him before only stories. He was so close, she had to meet him, or at least see him in action.

Batman!

She saw his shadow jump across the roof again, and she followed him. Her heels clicked on the concrete.

 _This is a bad idea._

She knew it but she couldn't help herself as she rises forward pushing of the wall as she made a sharp turn down a dark ally. Pushing past garbage cans she ran to catch up, but it's not easy to run in heels. Especially cheap ones that you borrows from a store clerk when her back was turned.

Harleen tripped. Falling into her knees, scraping them.

 _Fuck batman, fuck these heels, fuck everything._

She stared at the concrete with tears in her eyes, her knees stung but that wasn't why she was crying. Chasing batman was like trying to chase her dreams, impossible. You'd see them and the moment you think you're close enough they slip away.

"Need help?" A rough voice asked her.

She looked up at the large figure that overshadowed her.

"Batman…" this time she whispered, scared to be in his presence. Scared to take his hand.

"You know this isn't a good part of town for you to be in especially at night."

Harleen nodded slowly reaching for his hand as he catapulted her to a standing position.

"Come on let's get you somewhere safe." He smiled lightly.

He guided her to the only lit building on the street. It was a support center for abused and homeless women. She gave him a look raising her eyebrow.

"It's the only building open twenty four hours a day. I recommend staying until seven and then hitch a cab. This isn't where you want to be walking." He said and patted her shoulder. It seemed as if he was lightly pushing her inside.

"Thanks Batman, I'm Harleen by the way. Harleen Quinzel." By the time she turned around batman was gone.

"We'll Harleen Quinzel, I suggest you get a move on inside honey girl, I ain't gonna hold this door all day." A woman at the door said.

Harleen nodded and rushed in through the open door. The women was fairly large, and a darker skin tone. African American Harleen assumed. Her hair was in cornrows that was held back in a ponytail. And by the way she walked, she owned this place and meant business.

"I'm Burnice by the way, and if you do anything to upset the others I'll hit you into next week. You hear me?" Burnice sassed.

Harleen nodded and looked around at the white tiles and how they contrasted the blue painted walls. A few women were a sleep on chairs, and others playing a card game.

"So you're what the Batsman brought in" Burnice said as she sat the reception desk. "You're not bruised, so what? Homeless? Or was it sexual assault, maybe even some mental scarring?"

"N-no I tripped and he brought me here. Apparently this isn't a good place to be at night." Harleen stuttered.

Burnice laughed, "Gotham in general ain't a good place to be 'specially at night. "

"I know I've been here for four years."

"Four years? Let me guess, Gotham university?"

"Yeah, a double major in Psychology and Psychiatry."

"Dang sweetie, you're smarter than you look."

"Thanks… I guess."

"So, you're straight out of college, probably looking for a job I assume."

Harleen nodded wondering where Burnice was going with this.

"Well why don't you look at those papers over there. They give us some applications for jobs that people don't want, but you might find something there that peaks your interests." Burnice pointed to a paper stand with multicolored applications.

Harleen bored and walked over to the stand. Nothing seemed to spark her interests, fast food places, store clerks, nothing. She began pulling out some applications spotting one black and white one out of the mix of yellow, purple, and blue flyers.

On the top of the sheet scrawled the name of the business.

 _Arkham Asylum._

Now _that_ seemed interesting.


End file.
